Moonlight
by Elizabeth Wilde
Summary: Legolas takes note of Sam's fascination with elves during their stay at Lothlorien.


Author: Elizabeth Wilde (hobbitslash@yahoo.com)  
Title: Moonlight  
Series: stand-alone for now  
Distribution: Anyone who has my fic, anyone who wants it and asks, http://www.geocities.com/livia_augusta/myfic.html (when I get around to it) [my site]  
Disclaimer: I don't own Sam or Legolas. I'm just borrowing them. They'll be returned unharmed to Mr. Tolkien's estate as soon as possible. Really. I mean it... kinda...  
Setting: While visiting the elves in Lothlorien.  
'Ship: Sam/Legolas  
Classification: mild romance  
Summary: Legolas takes note of Sam's fascination with elves.  
Rating: G  
  
Legolas had known the moment Sam entered the clearing. Actually, he heard the hobbit's approach   
as well. The company bothered him little, and he knew Sam well enough after such long travels   
that he knew beforehand the hobbit would merely watch quietly unless addressed directly. Turning   
his head slightly, dark eyes fixed on the shy, slightly flushed face beside him. "You found no   
rest with the others?"  
  
"No. Some nights sleep won't come like it should. Sorta stands right outta reach if you get my   
meaning," Sam offered, sitting down on the grass beside Legolas. "You don't sleep much."  
  
Nodding at the observation, Legolas smiled faintly. "Elves need little in the way of rest. It   
sometimes seems strange to me that we who have lives that might span all of time are given so   
much more without the need for sleep. It seems that mortals would need such a boon far more."  
  
After a moment silently considering the statement, Sam too nodded. He had never thought of it   
before, of course, but the words made sense. Sounded like something he himself usually worried   
after. Before he could say more, Legolas continued on.  
  
"You watch me often."  
  
Sam's head jerked up, unwittingly meeting the elf's dark gaze before looking quickly away.   
"Suppose I do. Try not to, honest!"  
  
"I believe you, Sam," Legolas soothed, sounding not at all bothered. "I don't mind. I remember   
you speaking with Frodo about your fascination with elves. Is that what makes me such an   
interesting subject for study?" Something like amusement lingered behind the words though the   
elf's expression changed not at all.  
  
"Y-yes, sir." Sam realized his agreement sounded weak at best, but could muster little more   
sincerity given how flustered he already felt. Briefly he considered running back the way he had   
come, but he knew better. If a root did not spring forth to trip him, certainly Legolas would   
decide to catch up and he possessed neither the speed nor grace to outrun an elf.  
  
"You lie poorly, Sam. Spare me the pain of your embarrassment." After a brief reflection, Legolas   
saw harshness in the words where it was not intended. "I mean only that you need not be   
embarrassed at all. Speak truthfully with me and fear no ill response."  
  
Not certain how to take the words but willing to believe his companion, Sam ventured quietly,   
"You're... you're right nice to look at."  
  
"Thank you. I might say the same," Legolas added frankly, studying the face of the hobbit at his   
side as one might a work of art.  
  
Still not looking up, Sam turned a deeper shade of red and shook his head. "Much as I appreciate   
your tryin' to make me feel better, there's no need to say anything of the sort. I know well   
enough how I look." //Plain.// He had never been able to think anything but that. He looked not   
so much different from his friends, with the exception of Frodo, who seemed possessed of a beauty   
almost elven in and of itself, but Sam never could manage to find much to like when he saw   
himself in the looking glass. The sudden touch of a soft finger tracing his cheek made Sam look   
up, wide-eyed.  
  
Legolas reacted not at all to the sudden scrutiny, simply let his finger continue its journey   
down to Sam's chin. When the hobbit tried to look down again, the same slender finger, calloused   
in a pattern common to archers, moved beneath Sam's chin and tilted his face upward once more.   
"I know not why you fail to see the light in your own eyes." A moment later, the elf leaned in a   
bit closer, the motion swift until he paused, eyes locked with Sam's. "Are you afraid?"  
  
"No... no, not so much as afraid as... as just nervous, Si-"  
  
"Call me by my name." The words were a whisper, almost too quiet to hear.  
  
"Legolas," Sam repeated, wishing he could mimic the elven cadence as Aragorn could to do the   
beautiful word true justice.   
  
"Yes," the man breathed, closing the last distance between them to brush his lips against Sam's.   
Pulling back, he smiled faintly, pale skin glowing in the light of the moon shining down upon   
them. "Go now. Sleep. We can speak again tomorrow as well as tonight and then you will be   
rested."  
  
Still dazed from the kiss and the words spoken before it, Sam nodded dumbly as Legolas withdrew   
his hand. He somehow found his feet and turned to walk back to camp, glancing back over his   
shoulder as if checking to make sure the elf was truly there. Reassured by another rare and   
bewitching smile from the golden-haired elf, he blushed and walked back to rejoin the rest of   
the Fellowship in sleep. 


End file.
